Enigma
by Crimson Hint
Summary: Christine is convinced by Meg to go to her company party. There she meets Erik, a mysterious dance partner that sweeps her off her feet.
1. The Party

Hello! This is a little somethingI came up with at aroundtwo in the morning! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.

**Enigma **

"Well, do you want to come?" Meg laughed.

"Meg, the party is _tonight_. Couldn't you have called me earlier?" I shifted my cell phone to my other ear as I tried to desperately to balance my backpack, purse, and leftovers from lunch all on my arm.

Rounding the corner of the hallway I caught sight of the closing elevator and flung myself in just in time, which earned me a few grumbled complaints from the students nearest me.

I grimaced an apology while Meg chattered on,

"If you must know, Lana, you remember her, right?"

"Um, I think." I stepped out into the parking garage and hustled over to my car, dumping my load with a grateful sigh onto the back seat.

"Well, she came down with some bug or another and I managed to wrangle her ticket from her before she went home. Anyways, _Christine_, this is the BIGGEST party of my entire social life here at Daniel's."

I quietly groaned at her utter peppiness as I pulled out of Oppel University's parking lot and headed towards the freeway. It was five in the afternoon, for God's sake, and Meg wasn't even fazed by eight hours of grueling work as a secretary at her job at an events company named Daniel's.

"It's a huge event – all of the big names will be there and it's the only event that employees get an actual invite to every year. It's so exciting! The party has a different theme every year – last year it was some kind of an 1800's ball and this year, guess what it is!"

"What is the grand theme this year?" I droned out and haphazardly changed lanes so I could get off at my exit. Meg wasn't going to let go of this one. I just knew it. Her one major weakness was partying and it always ended up that I was somehow convinced to come along.

Usually I didn't mind, but it was the end of the semester and earlier in the day I had to take _two _finals and I still had one left to take tomorrow, which meant major cramming on my part.

"_Masquerade_! Doesn't it sound so _mysterious!" _She gushed. "You've _got_ to come. I've already picked out both of our dresses and let me tell you we are going to HAVE SO MUCH FUN!"

I held the phone away from my ear as she squealed excitedly and turned onto my street.

"Yes, we are, Meg." I pulled into the driveway in front of the split-level apartment Meg and I shared and got out, snapping my phone shut, abandoning my backpack and grabbing my purse and food.

Meg pounced on me as soon as I was through the door. She was almost fully dressed in what looked like a black, slinky, and very revealing little number that I hadn't seen before. It was probably purchased days ago in preparation and stashed away in the depths of her closet.

"Alright! Shower first and then hair."

She shooed me up the stairs and chased me into my room.

"Meg , really, why didn't you tell me sooner? I would have been home and I wouldn't have known where you were or…"

"Sheesh…I left you a message days ago on the fridge. I'm sorry if you didn't see it. And anyways, I forgot to remind you yesterday. I really was going to."

I shot her a look and huffily tossed some fresh underwear onto my bed and stormed into the bathroom. That was _so_ Meg – completely forgetting something that just _might _be important information to others.

Closing the door in her face I hastily undressed and got into the shower. She bounded in a few seconds later to put on her makeup and I resignedly asked,

"Okay, where is this thing going to be held?"

"My boss's boss's mansion. You know, we rarely see the guy in the office and he _never _shows up for the party." She paused and then, "Which kind of defeats the purpose of having a party at his own house, you know?"

"Yes, definitely." I turned off the shower and, reaching blindly around the curtain, grabbed my towel. Stepping out with it firmly wrapped around me I scurried across the hall and shut and locked my door firmly behind me. Donning the underwear I spotted a stunning floor length peach colored gown hanging off of my closet door.

"Meg," I shouted, "where did you get this!"

"Bought it when I got the black one. It was so gorgeous I couldn't resist!"

I went over and stroked the layers of tulle and silk before reverently taking it off of its hanger and putting it on. It fit me perfectly, which was no surprise, since Meg and I were both the same size.

Opening the door I went back into the bathroom again and grabbed the nearest makeup item off of the counter. When she finished, Meg ran downstairs and came back up with two masks, one black and sparkly that covered only the eyes and another covered in peach and cream feathers and tiny crystals that, when worn, would cover the whole face.

Tossing the feathered one to me, she grinned impishly and bounded into her room, chanting,

"Fun, fun, fun, fun!"

I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I was presentable and shook my head. She was getting to me. I think I was becoming the tiniest bit excited about this party. As I cleaned up the mess of cosmetics and went back into my bedroom to search for my handbag I thought,

_What the hell. I need a break form all of that studying. It's not like I haven't been cramming all week **and **the week before for these tests._

Grabbing a pair of heels, I carefully walked down the stairs, holding my dress up and praying I wouldn't clumsily rip it. At the bottom I sat down and put the shoes on, watching as Meg flitted about making last minute adjustments to her hair or tossing extra items into her purse. Finally, she excitedly dragged me off the stairs and into her car.

It was a twenty-minute drive to where the party was being held. It was a huge, stately looking mansion in a very ritzy neighborhood way out in the suburbs. We nervously drove past the open gates and pulled over behind the last parked car. Getting out, Meg handed me a ticket and then we both donned our masks and clacked our way down the long driveway.

The doorman graciously took our tickets and we wandered inside. The place was huge! Making our way through the crowds of people scattered around the ten or so rooms on the downstairs floor, we made our way eventually to a breathtakingly beautiful ballroom.

"Wow. It looks like we just stepped into a castle, doesn't it?" Meg whispered as we moved further into the room. As we dodged various people she spotted a group of friends from work.

Pulling me over, she introduced all of us and then she started up a rapid-fire conversation with them. After a few awkward minutes, feeling completely out of the loop, I motioned to Meg that I was going to go and then made my way over to the refreshment table that was pushed against one of the far walls.

I filled a cup with punch and then leaned up against a wall a little ways away. As people passed me I stood and took in all of the details of the room. It was a masterpiece of architecture. There was golden colored marble everywhere. Columns lined the walls and the center of focus was a main staircase that led to the upper level of the house.

Suddenly, as I craned my head to get a better view of the ceiling, a voice whispered,

"It is stunning, isn't it?"

I jumped in surprise and turned to find a man dressed in a finely tailored tux standing next to me. He was tall and, from what I could tell, had a great body under all those clothes. He was wearing a pure white mask that covered his whole face, except for his full, pouting lips, adding an elegant, streamlined look to his appearance.

"W…what?" I stammered and almost dropped my cup.

He gracefully gestured around the room.

"This was built to look similar to some of the Opera Garnier's chambers." He pointed off to the staircase. "That, especially, is an exact replica."

"It's amazing. In fact," I rambled, " this whole house…er…mansion is beautiful. The man who owns it must have really put a lot of time and effort into this place."

He gazed at me interestedly with what I noticed were oddly intense glacier blue eyes.

"Yes, I suppose he did." He was silent for a while and we watched in tense silence wile the orchestra I had completely missed on my way in started up an olden time waltz. Everyone hurriedly cleared the center of the room and a few couples tentatively broke away from the crowd and started to dance.

The man next to me gently touched my shoulder to get my attention and then, with a flourish, held out his hand.

"Would the lady care to dance?" He looked directly into my eyes and I just melted.

Smiling, I nodded and he led the way to the dance floor. As soon as we cleared the line of guests ringing the walls it was like we took off. Around and around we went. The dance seemed to drift away and all that I could focus on were his eyes.

I couldn't understand it at the time, but it was like he exuded a powerful yet graceful presence. He led and I followed as if I were floating on air. We went right on through two more dances before we stopped and he silently led me by the hand through the guests once again and out onto a quiet little vine draped terrace.

Breathless, I leaned up against the balustrade and watched as my dance partner paced up and down the length of the terrace a few times, hands firmly clasped behind his back, and then proceeded to settle himself next to me. Almost afraid to brake whatever spell was on us, I stayed silent and watched the party through the glass doors that lined the wall.

We stood there for what seemed like hours, his shoulder barley touching mine, until, suddenly, he whirled around and said,

"I would like to show you something." He took my arm and led me down some steps that were practically hidden by the foliage.

Walking almost too fast for me to keep up he led me across the lawn to a massive hedge maze in the back of the house. Heading straight in, he took us through numerous paths, twists and turns, and finally out into a small clearing with a willow in the middle of it.

Lifting the branches for me so they wouldn't snag on my dress, he directed me to a little bench set against the trunk.

We sat and he said quietly,

"This is my favorite place to come and think. I made the maze so that almost no one but me could navigate it." He crossed his legs and delicately rested his chin on his fist.

I sat there for a second, too caught up in the moment to register, and then it finally hit me.

"Wait a second! You designed this?" He turned his head towards me. "So that means you're…"

"Yes." He smiled at me and chuckled. "Does it matter?"

I stared at him openmouthed. He stared at me for a second, his eyes filled with mirth, and then he leaned back against the trunk and let out a gigantic laugh.

"Hey! What's so funny?" I crossed my arms and watched as he proceeded to grab his stomach and howl with more laughter at my outburst.

"Your…face!" He choked out. "I've gotten a lot of reactions from people when they meet me, but yours was…_priceless_!"

I glared daggers at him and abruptly stood.

"If this was just some kind of…of…_game_ that you made me play for your amusement, then it's **not** funny!" I turned around and stomped off towards the entrance to the clearing. Getting caught in the vines, I huffed in irritation, "This is so embarrassing! How could you! And after that…that…completely _magical _dance! Ugh!"

I managed to disentangle myself and I ran off into the maze, not even stopping when I heard him shout,

"No! Please don't go!" And then, "Stop! You'll get lost!"

I ran blindly through the leaves, stumbling a few times and getting scratched by the twigs that stuck out from the sides. I fled until I hit a dead end and then I sunk down onto the ground, not caring about my dress, completely and utterly humiliated and lost.

Tossing my mask to the side and dropping my head into my arms I sobbed. This was a total disaster! I couldn't believe what had just happened. He seemed…different. When we danced it seemed almost unreal.

After a while I sobbed myself out and started to fall asleep from the strain I had undergone that night. As I drifted into unconsciousness, I heard someone come up to me and silently curse. Groggily, I lifted my head and there he was, looking slightly disheveled and breathing raggedly.

"Mon dieu…I am so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." He paused and took in my mascara soaked mask and wounded arms and shoulders. Cursing again, he dropped to his knees and gathered me into his arms. I feebly tried to push him away, but he held on tight and settled me into his lap.

Rummaging around, he pulled out a handkerchief and proceeded to wipe my face clean.

"I…I laughed like that because I was nervous, I guess. I am a very private person. I don't generally go up to beautiful girls and talk to them." He glanced up, mystified, "The way we danced…it was like you weren't a stranger to me. We fit perfectly together." He finished cleaning the mess off of my face and met my eyes.

"And…" He smiled, "your expression was adorable."

I looked down and blushed. Before I could say anything in reply, he grabbed my mask, lifted me up and started carrying me through the maze. I shrieked in protest but he wouldn't let me go. We traveled in silence until we emerged onto the lawn.

He gently set me down and then toyed with my mask. I looked at him curiously and whispered to myself,

"You know, I don't even know your name."

Apparently he heard me and he jerked his head up in surprise and replied curtly, "Erik."

I raised an eyebrow and stared at the mask he was fingering.

"Can I see you now?"

"I'm standing right here." I laughed and pointed to his face.

"No, I mean the mask! You haven't taken it off this whole time!"

He did a peculiar thing, then. He froze and for a brief second his icy gaze turned hot with anger. It was quelled though, and he smirked.

"I was going for a 'caped crusader' image." He stalked towards me and closed the distance between us. "A gallant and mysterious enigma."

He was inches from my face now and the proximity of our bodies was driving me wild. I completely forgot the damned mask as he leaned in and our lips met.

It was so heavenly that I almost swooned but he caught me and pressed me against his body. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but we broke apart eventually and he led me by the hand back up the terrace and into the ballroom.

Stopping me by the main doorway that led further into the house he huskily purred,

"Stay here. I'll be right back. I need to go get something for you."

"Wait!" I reached after him, but he had slipped through the crowd and disappeared.

Just as suddenly as Erik had gone, Meg popped up in front of me.

"There you are! I've searched the whole house for you – and let me tell you that is **not** an easy task!" She grabbed my arm and started tugging me through the throngs of partygoers.

"Hold on!" I tried to pull her hands off of me, but she pushed me through a doorway and suddenly we were outside, just to the right of the front door.

Dragging me to the car she got in and I followed, worried that she would take off with out me.

We proceeded down the driveway and I gazed back at the mansion as Meg turned onto the main road, wondering if I would ever get the chance to see Erik again.


	2. The Girl

I decided to try Erik's point of view for this chapter. I hope you like it! Also, THANK YOU ALL OF MY REVIEWERS!

Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.

**The Girl**

I stared at the spot where the girl had been standing feeling a rising tide of anger course through my body.

_How dare she! I bet she had planned this – get the freak's hopes up and then…**no**!_

She hadn't seen my face and the way she had acted suggested no ill intention. I stroked the soft petals of the rose I held in my hand, my intended gift to her, rethinking what had just happened.

Truly, the whole night was starting to feel like a dream.

I gazed around the ballroom for a few minutes, trying desperately to control my temper and hoping that she would reappear. When I could not find her, feeling crowded, I strolled away from the party and headed deeper into the house towards my private suite of rooms.

_Why did I let her get so close?_

Had I lost my mind? True, she seemed a vision standing there alone, leaning against the wall, completely separated from the crowd. Her chocolate curls haloed her face and draped the back of her peach dress, making her look like something ethereal – an angel. Still, it wasn't like me to be so…_forward_. The way I reacted!

Her touch was like a powerful aphrodisiac to my system that left me yearning for more as I entered the music room and strode over to the French doors lining the walls. I shoved one open in frustration and went to sit on the nearby piano bench. As I stared out into the summer night a cool breeze blew in and washed over my person.

I sighed and carefully lifted my full-faced mask off and gently propped it up against the keys. Tossing the rose onto the piano's lid, I buried my face in my hands, feeling the rough and twisted flesh on itsright side.

Suddenly, a painful wave of disgust enveloped me and I jerked back and swiveled around, pounding a fist into the keys. My mask clattered to the floor and I craned my head to where it had settled on the carpet. The moonlight cast the white leather's harsh profile across the floor, making it look almost monstrous.

Entranced, I gazed at the shadow for almost an hour. I watched it creep ever closer to me, a haunting reminder of the pain I had endured in my life, as the moon started to sink lower in the sky.

Then, as it crawled its way over my shoe, I snorted and shook myself back to reality. Jumping up with such force that the piano bench toppled over with a clatter, I viciously kicked the thing into a corner and stormed out onto the small balcony attached to the room.

Pounding my fist into the railing with a curse, I looked out onto the grounds. My ears picked up the muted sounds of the party, which was still going on. Looking up to the star filled sky, I whispered the simple yet troubling question,

_Why?_

Why did I meet her? Why in the hell did she have the effect on me that she did? And why – _why _was I the way I was? _Why was anything the way it was?_

Infuriated, I ripped a rose off the bush growing just in front of the balcony – the same bush I had rushed to just an hour or so ago to get _her_ rose – not caring whether I tore my hand to shreds on the thorns or not.

Storming back into the room and slamming the door behind me hard enough to rattle the glass, I growled in frustration and swiped the mask up from where it had landed on the floor. Placing it firmly back on my face, I headed for the door and then stopped abruptly, just realizing how much of a dolt I was.

I knew nothing about her! I didn't even get her name, for God's sake. How was I supposed to find her? Did I even _want _to go looking for her?

Slowly, I reached up and touched theright side of my mask. Even if I did find her, what would happen? Did I really want to risk myself over a total stranger? These feelings I had experienced tonight – could I chalk it up simply to lust and nothing more?

I leaned my forehead against the door and pictured her wide, smiling eyes and the graceful way she held herself when we danced. No, it was not just infatuation. I had shared a connection with this girl that I had never experienced before.

With a sigh, I straightened myself and opened the door. As I strode out into the hallway and headed to my bedroom, I whispered to myself,

"Angel, we _will _meet again. Somehow, somewhere…" I looked at the rose I still had in my hand. "Our paths will cross once more."


	3. Angel and Phantom

Hello! This chapter was created at around eleven at night, so I apologize for any errors in spelling or logic.

AGAIN - THANK YOU ALL OF MY REVIEWERS FOR YOUR POSITIVE COMMENTS ON MY STORY! I AM SO GLAD THAT YOU LIKE IT!

I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.

**Angel and Phantom**

I sat down on the cushions in front of the bay window in the living room, careful not to spill my hot chocolate. Looking out at the wildly flying snow I couldn't believe that it had been five months since the party. That whole night was slowly becoming a dreamlike memory.

A week after that enchanted evening the summer semester had ended bringing with it dashed together vacation plans by my crazy roommate. I chuckled as I remembered the small cottage by the sea about a two-hour drive away from our apartment that Meg and I had rented for a short but memorable week. And now I was almost halfway through my last year at Oppel University.

I managed to get very decent grades on all of the pre-winter break tests and now I was luxuriating in the pure laziness of the holiday. I grinned at my dim reflection in the glass and stretched over to snag a blanket off of the couch.

Snuggling down into the fluffy fabric and carefully dragging my mug with me I turned my attention back to the snow. I sat there for what seemed like forever, listening to the howling wind, before my thoughts turned towards the inevitable – _Erik._

Even now, though I had almost convinced myself that he was an utter hallucination on my part, a phantom, I yearned for his touch, his presence. I had grilled Meg thoroughly for information about him. Apparently there was a mysterious owner of the company that was rarely, if ever, seen at the office.

He was a tycoon, and a rich one, at that. The yearly party was enough proof to dispel any theories of a ghost pulling the strings around the office. Still, Meg believed that only the higher-ups had ever had a face-to-face conversation with him.

I tried to ask her directions to the mansion where the party was held, but they were only written on the ticket and, in typical Meg fashion, she had already forgotten how she had gotten there in the first place.

I sighed despairingly and went to take a sip of my hot chocolate when suddenly the door banged open and Meg stumbled in carrying a mound of packages in her arms. She attempted to close the door with her foot, missed, and the topmost packages tumbled to the floor.

Setting down my cup, I scrambled over to help and within minutes we had all the various boxes and bags piled haphazardly on top of the couch. Plopping herself down on a chair, Meg swooned backwards dramatically and declared,

"It's so _hard_ being Santa. All that _shopping_! It's enough to wear any girl out. Ugh!" She threw her arm over her head and peered at me from under her elbow. "You could have helped me, you know!"

I snorted and settled down in the seat next to her.

"Meg, I had some very important tests to study for and…" She cut me off and flapped her free hand at me,

"I know, I know! 'Studying is more important than shopping and there shalt not be a single argument on the matter'" She got up and began to rummage around in the packages. "I've learned my lesson – Christine is _extremely _scary in her 'study mode'. Next time you might throw something a lot bigger than a backpack at my head if I go near you during finals week."

She pulled something out of a box and placed it on the table. To my surprise and delight it was a mini fake tree complete with fiber-optic lighting and a star on top. Without stopping to admire her purchase, she dove into one of the largest bags and pulled out a box of ornaments, which she handed to me.

I got up, fished the plug out of the box, and turned it on. Then, as Meg proceeded to pull out what looked like an entire Christmas party from the mess on the couch, I started to decorate the tree.

Two hours and a half a dozen cups of hot chocolate later, we sat on the floor, too tired to move, and admired our handiwork. We had a tree, presents, mistletoe, and even stockings carefully tacked up on the wall.

"Meg…just tell me one thing, why…how in the hell…?" She giggled and poked me in the ribs.

"Because Christmas is my absolute favorite holiday, of course! Just think…shopping, gifts, getting drunk on eggnog and kissing random hot guys under the mistletoe! And don't forget the parties!" She rolled over, stood, and then offered me a hand.

Obliging, I let her tug me up and then we tiredly gathered up all of the boxes and leftover stuff and piled it into the coat closet at the foot of the stairs.

Exhausted, we headed off to bed. Just after I had crawled under the covers, Meg poked her head into the room and whispered,

"Christine, I almost forgot to ask you, would you come to work with me on Thursday? It's our last day before we take off for the holidays and I _really_ want to show you off to my friends. They've all been wanting to meet you, so I figured…"

She trailed off as I stuck my hand out of the covers and gave her a thumbs-up. Closing the door quietly, I heard her pad down the hall and then flop into bed.

Drifting off under the warm blankets I smiled to myself and curled up, wishing Meg and myself good dreams.

By the time Thursday came around, Meg had picked out an entire outfit for me plus makeup, hair, and jewelry. I snorted as I looked at the aspen-worthy getup of designer looking jeans, cream knit sweater, boots, cap, and to top it all off a fluffy faux-fur vest complete with pom-pom zipper pull.

My personal stylist drifted in and squealed in delight,

"YOU ARE GOING TO LOOK SO CUTE IN THIS!"

"Meg, I'm not your own personal Barbie doll." I started tugging on the blouse and vest since I had already changed into the jeans. She grabbed the boots and cap and went downstairs to wait, but not before shooting off,

"Oh yes you are! I created you, fashionably speaking. YOU WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT ME! MUAHAHAHAHA!" I snorted again and followed her. Tugging the boots on as I stepped out the door, Meg tackled me from behind and shoved the cap onto my head. Giggling, she raced around me and got into the car.

I trailed after her and then we were off to the party.

Daniel's was located downtown in a large, modernized warehouse. As we walked through the doors, a few employees greeted Meg and then we were ushered into what looked like the main workspace. It was a big, open room sectioned off by cubicles and temporary walls. Tinsel garlands were draped everywhere and I could spy a few strategically placed bunches of mistletoe.

Meg led me over to the refreshment table where we both piled plates full of cookies, brownies, and whatever else was laid out. Just as I was heading for the punch bowl, around a dozen people encircled Meg and I and started exclaiming in delight,

"Oh, so _you're _Meg's friend!" and,

"The famed Christine! Meg just _won't _stop talking about you!"

I clung to Meg as she introduced me to _all_ of the people at the company. After about forty faces and an hour later, we managed to escape down an isle way for a short breather. Shoving me into a cubicle and down into the swivel chair that was sitting in front of the desk, she drooped against the wall and blew her bangs out of her face tiredly.

Looking at Meg with pleading eyes, I pitifully whined,

"Can we go home now? _Pleeease_!" She glared at me and then straightened up, appearing to have caught a second wind. She crossed her arms and said,

"No! You are at a party and you will like it!" She tried to tug me up. "Now go and flirt with some of the guys from the art department! They're cute in a brooding, huggable sort of way. Just your type."

I remained in the chair, hurriedly trying to think of a way to get at least a few minutes more away from the chaos.

"Meg, can't you just let me sit here for a little while? I _promise_ I'll go back to socializing. Just give me some time to catch my breath!" I clung to the chair for dear life as Meg eyed me and then, by some miracle, she took pity on me and left, saying,

"Three minutes, babe! And then…" She swiveled around and gave me her best Terminator impersonation, "I'LL BE BACK!"

Deflating with relief, I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, determined to make the best of my hiatus from the party. A minute stretched by and then I heard someone shuffle by the cubicle over the noise of the people. Figuring that it was just an employee that had the same idea of escape as me, I remained were I was.

Seconds later I barely caught an awed whisper,

"_Angel_…" 

And then I was scooped up by someone and was carted out into the hallway. Opening my eyes in shock, I came face to face with none other than my mystery man himself, Erik. I froze, and he took the opportunity to start walking down the isle and towards the back of the building.

"Wha…how…?" I stammered and met his chilling gaze. He didn't answer, just strode towards a section of private offices, kicked open the door to one, tossed me onto a chair, and then shut and locked the entrance to the room behind him.

Turning around and facing me, he leaned against the door and stared at me. I stared back, completely in shock.

"Do you know how long I've…" He trailed off and was silent.

"You've what?" I whispered after a few seconds.

He met my eyes again and just like at the dance so many months ago I melted. Crossing the room in a few strides he knelt in front of me and took hold of my swaying shoulders.

"Are you alright?" He worriedly glanced over my body to check if something was wrong, but seeing nothing amiss, his gaze locked back on to mine.

"Yes. This seems to happen when I'm near you though…" I blushed and looked down, fingering one of the pom-poms on my vest. "I can't explain it, it's like you have some kind of…"

"_Presence…"_ We both whispered at the same time.

My head snapped up and my nose nearly collided with his mouth. He had somehow managed to almost cover me with his body and his face was inches from mine. Because he was so close, I finally realized what I had missed before – the right side of his face was completely covered by what looked like a half replica of the mask he had been wearing at the masquerade.

I managed to get out,

"Mas…"

Before his lips found mine and any thoughts that my mind was trying to form shattered into bursts of emotion and feeling. One of his hands wound its way into my hair and the other wrapped around my waist and pressed me against his chest.

We both came up for air gasping and trembling. He caressed my face and then started to kiss it as I wove my fingers through his raven locks.

"Erik…" I gasped out as he tried to bite my ear. He stopped reluctantly and rested his head on my shoulder. Then he pleaded,

"What is your name? Please tell me, angel."

I rested my head on top of his and said,

"It's Christine."

"_Christine…Christine…Christine…" _He whispered my name over and over again as if it would disappear.

Suddenly, he leaned back and studied me.

"I had hoped that we would meet again. After that night…" He stared over my shoulder and asked hesitantly, "Why did you disappear? I came back and you were gone. I waited for you."

I blushed and grimaced,

"My friend Meg just popped up and started to drag me away. Before I knew it, we were outside and…" I trailed off and tried to meet his eyes.

He just kept staring off behind me with an almost painful look in his eyes. Puzzled, I stood and he brought his attention back to me. Rising from his position on the floor he towered over me and I gazed up at him.

"What do we do now?" He frowned, momentarily puzzled at my words, and then bent his head down and kissed me again. This time I wasn't sitting and almost collapsed from the emotion. He scooped me up and sat down on the edge of the desk, settling me onto his lap.

"You're going to have to stop doing that." He chuckled. "I can't carry you around every time I kiss you."

I looked at him wide eyed.

"There's going to be a next time?" He smirked and purred,

"You're mine now and I'm not letting you go." He tightened his hold on me and then shot up. Twirling me around the room, he laughed when I protested and then gracefully set me down.

I tugged him over to the chair and made him sit. Taking a position against the desk, I quietly studied him. He was gorgeous, from what I could see. Toned and tall with delicately sculpted facial features that would make a male model burst with envy. The only thing was the mask. It must hide some kind of deformity. Or else it was a fashion statement.

He noticed where I was looking and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Deformity – definitely. Putting my curiosity to the side, I smiled, raised my eyebrow and repeated my earlier question,

"What do we do now?" He thought for a minute and then opened his mouth to reply, but before he could utter a single word someone pounded heavily on the door. Narrowing his eyes at the plank of wood, he growled out,

"What?"

A man shouted desperately through the door,

"Erik, we have a _situation_ at one of the offices in England."

When he didn't reply the man pounded on the door again.

"Erik, I'm begging you! You're the only one that can fix this! It'll cost us millions!"

Erik shot up and faced me.

"_Please_ stay here. This will only take a minute." He took my hand and kissed it with a flourish then he strode to the door, unlocked it, and slipped out into the hallway, closing it quietly behind him.

I sank down into the chair and stared at the floor in a daze. I had just found him again and now he was gone. True, he would be back, but what should I do? Frankly, the way I reacted to him scared me. It felt so…primal…so simple…like we just _were _and it made sense.

Was it love?

I shook my head in confusion and then leaned back in the chair. I stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours until, faintly, I could hear my name being called. Curious, I got up and stuck my head out the door. I could see Meg's blond locks bobbing up and down a few cubicles away.

"Meg?" I half shouted. She heard me and came running. As she rounded a corner and came into view, I could see that her mascara was smudged all over her face and she was holding her cell phone in her hands as if it were a dangerous animal.

"Oh my God. What's wrong?" I rushed over to her and she threw herself at me.

"WHERE WERE YOU? God, how could you just disappear like that!" She hit my arm agitatedly and continued, "You were gone from the cubicle and then I tried your cell and you wouldn't answer and…" I shook her off of me and demanded calmly,

"Meg, _what happened_?" She looked at me with devastated eyes,

"R…Raoul…he's dead!"

"WHAT!" I practically screeched.

"He got into an accident. On his bike. Wasn't wearing his helmet and crashed on the freeway." Meg choked out a few more details about my older cousin, Raoul's, high-speed collision and then fell silent.

Beyond shocked, I took her by the hand and started to weave through the maze of cubicles.

"Meg, do you know how to get out of here?" I looked back at her and she pointed to the left.

"First left, then right, another right, and then out the emergency door." I followed her instructions until we finally emerged out into the parking lot. Putting her in the passenger's seat, I drove home.

Settling travel arrangements with my family, Meg and I flew out to California on the day before Christmas. Shoving Erik out of my mind completely, I was surrounded by my grieving relatives and friends.

Raoul, sweet, kind, and caring, was one of my favorite cousins and my child hood friend and constant companion. I watched as on Christmas day he was buried in a little cemetery high on a bluff by the ocean. After the ceremony I walked down a narrow, rocky path to the beach.

He loved the beach. I smiled sadly as I remembered an incident long ago when we were both playing in the sand near my parent's vacation home. I had just gotten a brilliant red scarf from my father and I was completely in love with it. Ignoring my mother's warning of taking it outside on such a windy day, I settled myself on the sand to watch the surf while Raoul dug around looking for hermit crabs.

Much to my dismay the wind whipped my scarf right off of my neck minutes after I had sat down. Hearing my agonized cry, Raoul bounded into the water and gallantly rescued my scarf, presenting it to me dripping and cold, but intact, nonetheless.

From that day forward he was my idol. I followed him around everywhere he went and, instead of trying to shoo me off, he welcomed me along.

A few days after Meg and I had gotten home I finally recalled what had happened at the Christmas party. I felt awful for just leaving Erik there. That was the second time that I saw him and I still knew only his name and a few rumors.

Curling up in bed I vowed that I would find him and we would finally talk. Or at least swap phone numbers. I shifted onto my stomach and snorted into my pillow. Hopefully we'd have enough time to do that.

As I drifted off to sleep I thought to myself,

_Well, Christine, third time's the charm. Hopefully you'll find this dream man, this phantom, again._


	4. Thoughts

Thank you all of my reviewers! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.

**Thoughts**

I slammed my fists against the lid of the piano and growled in frustration.

It had been weeks since I had last seen her and she had been on my mind every moment – waking or not. She had disappeared yet again.

Coming back to the office after a heated conversation with the head in London, I noticed the open door and dashed in, a feeling of dread weighing heavily in the bottom of my stomach. Lunging at the office phone on the desk, I frantically dialed the security officer in the parking lot to see if she was outside. When there was no answer I rushed out and proceeded to search the building myself, but she was gone.

Taking my frustration out on the keys in front of me, I replayed what had happened over and over in my head. I had kissed her again. I don't know what had possessed me, but in that first moment when our lips met, I realized that I had changed.

I had spent no more than a total of three hours with the girl yet she had suppressed one of my most basic and necessary instincts – the need to protect my face at all times.

After countless hours of solitude and deliberation in my room, it finally hit me – the first time, outside of the maze, I had kissed her to stop her inquiries about my mask. True, I was intoxicated by her presence, but I still put my face above her. I controlled her, embraced her, safely pinning her arms to her body.

Kneeling on the office's rough carpet in front of her trembling body, I forgot about everything but her. I didn't give a damn about how close I was to her or how easily she could have knocked off my mask, either accidentally or deliberately.

Leaning back on the bench, I closed my eyes but continued to play. Barking out a bitter laugh, I thought of the complete irony of my situation as I asked myself the question I had pondered so many months ago in this very room,

_Why?_

It couldn't be only her physical appearance into my life that had affected me. Could it be the countless hours I had spent thinking of her? Was I building someone up in my mind that really didn't exist? I recalled the words of a song that seemed to mirror my confusion exactly,

_Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you?_

Suddenly a gust of wind whistled against the side of the house and one of the French doors was flung open with a bang. I stopped playing, startled out of my musings, and irritably crossed the room. Sticking my head out into the frigid, turbulent air, I noticed billowing black clouds on the horizon.

Frowning, I turned and shut the door securely behind me then, for good measure, checked the rest. Throwing myself heavily onto the piano bench again, I sighed and resumed my abuse of the keys.

Even if I was becoming dangerously obsessed with her, I just couldn't resist. I wanted her. As callous as that statement seemed, it was true.

Also, the thing that was troubling me the most was…why had she left?

Again, I wracked my brain for details.

Did I scare her off somehow? Or did she purposely leave? I hissed at the thought and missed a chord. She didn't seem like the type to deliberately leave just to tease or tantalize. She actually tried to explain herself for her abrupt disappearance at the party.

I snorted and raised an eyebrow. That one statement was the only clue I had as to her whereabouts. A few days after the Christmas party I called Jonathan, the office manager that had interrupted us, at his house. Simmering in anger at the memory, I demanded that he give me a list of all the women named Meg, Margaret, or Megan employed at that branch.

Twenty minutes later it was sliding out of the fax machine in my home office and into my hands.

It was short – only five people total. Calling Jonathan back, I told him to contact all of them and inquire about a young lady named Christine.

_Christine…_

Even now, I couldn't suppress the excited shudder that ran through my body as I whispered it in my mind.

Another gust of wind rattled the panes of glass in the doors and mournfully howled through the crack between the wood and the floor.

It was a dead end. Jonathan called back a day later and apologetically informed me that none of them had a friend named Christine.

Although disappointing, I knew that this was only a minor annoyance. She was at the Christmas party and the masquerade. That meant she had some ties to the company. Eventually I would find her or she would turn up in front of me like a few weeks ago.

For now I could wait.

In fact, it might do me some good to take a small break. If I removed myself from this place, which was driving me insane since I knew she was so near, yet so utterly disconnected from my grasp, it might give me time to sort out my feelings for her.

I called for Jacobs, my butler, and asked,

"Are my travel arrangements prepared for the opening of the new office?"

He nodded courteously and replied in a curt, British accent,

"Yes, sir. Your flat in Paris had been aired and re staffed. Also, I took the liberty of ordering two of your cars out of storage."

"Which ones?"

"The Phantom, sir. And the Lotus."

I raised an eyebrow at his first choice, but remained silent.

"You are leaving on Saturday, am I correct?" The wizened old butler pulled a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and perched a pair of glasses on top of his nose.

"Yes." I rose from my spot by the piano and glided past him. Opening the door, I said,

"Is there anything else, Jacobs?"

"No, sir." Came the immediate reply.

"Good," I stepped out into the hall and left the door open behind me, shouting back over my shoulder, "Oh, and Jacobs, I have recently changed my plans. I will be staying longer than expected."


	5. The Red Death

I am sorry for any errors in spelling or logic. This chapter is thirteen pages long and I was up until a god-awful hour writing it. Also, just to let you know – Christine lives very close to the college, but even so it still is faster for her to get onto the freeway and drive back and forth then go by regular roads.

Thank you all of my reviewers! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.

**The Red Death**

The day after we got back from the funeral we discovered that a snowstorm had knocked the power out. Days after that we discovered that besides resetting all of our clocks our message machine had been totally wiped clean. Still emotionally shocked, Meg and I were devastated – Raoul had left us one last recording a few weeks ago wishing us both a Merry Christmas.

After desperately trying to get the messages to miraculously come back, Meg flung herself in her room and stayed there for the remaining two days of her vacation. I didn't blame her – since we had first met in high school Raoul had slowly become like a brother to her.

As for me, instead of giving in to the whirlwind of emotions caused by my cousin's sudden death like Meg had, I slowly coped in my own way. For a few days I just sat on the window seat in our quiet, snow covered apartment and let childhood memories wash over me.

Smiling and leaning my head against the cool glass of the window, I remembered the time when he had visited me in my dressing room after my last high school play (I had practiced hard for the part – I loved theater then and still did).

Toting a huge bouquet of roses and grinning from ear to ear, he twirled me around the room and laughed as he caught sight of a splash of red draped over my cosmetic case.

"Your scarf! I thought you got rid of this old thing years ago!" He grabbed it and dangled it in front of my face.

"Hey!" I snatched it back and huffed, "It's my good luck charm, okay! I love this thing!" He looked at me like I had just sprouted two heads.

"Are you crazy! You have enough luck as it is…and you're not even Irish!"

I pouted and cuddled it to my face, "See, it works."

He crossed his arms and pouted right back.

After a few seconds I laughed, unable to stay even slightly mad at him for very long. Making a split decision, I shoved the scarf at him. He grasped at it in confusion, almost dropping it.

"Keep it. You need the luck, after all. You're so accident prone!" I grabbed my coat off the vanity chair and left my stuff – the room would be locked and I had another performance the next day. Heading out the door I smiled over my shoulder,

"Raoul, let's go somewhere for dinner…your treat!" He grumbled a complaint and dashed after me.

I started to smirk at the memory, but remembered suddenly that he had been wearing the scarf when he crashed. I thunked my head against the window as bitter feelings and thoughts came to the surface of my mind, unbidden.

_It wasn't good luck after all, was it? Raoul…_

I looked out at the glittering snow.

_Damn you._

I felt the tear only after it had hit my hand. Reaching up and angrily wiping at my face, I desperately looked around the room for something to take my mind off such morbid things.

My eyes settled on the fiber optic tree, plugged in and glowing softly in the mid-afternoon light. How could I forget our crazy Christmas decorating? Meg and her harebrained schemes! I had to admit that it was fun, and the party…

Suddenly it came to me – the party! Erik! How could I have forgotten!

Irritably, I got up and stormed upstairs and into my room. Tossing myself onto the bed, I buried my face in the pillows. What in the hell was I going to do about him? I sighed and thought about the situation.

Our two encounters were brief and fairytale-like. We were both running on feelings. The first time at his mansion was almost like a dream – I'd met my prince charming at the ball and had my ecstatic moment of overwhelming joy. It was so surreal that I had almost managed to convince myself that he was a figment of my imagination.

It wasn't real to me, I think, until I saw him again the second time – actually feeling his arms around me and watching those blue eyes sweep over my face. I mean, I tried to find out about him before, but even though I felt some sort of connection to him I pursued the whole thing like a one night stand.

Then, at the office, alone in a room with him, I realized just how deep my feelings were for this enigmatic Romeo. I had seen him only twice, for God's sake, yet he had managed to capture a piece of my heart.

And it frightened me.

I'd been in a few relationships before, mostly in high school, but nothing serious and no more physical than a kiss or two occasionally. How I reacted to Erik and how quickly he responded was overwhelming.

It was a dangerous thing I was toying with – I didn't know crap about the man or what we had done meant to him. I also didn't know how I would respond if I saw him again. That was the most frightening thought of all.

When I was with him I lost all sense of reason. Being close to him felt so right.

But I couldn't trust it.

I wanted to get to know him, at least, before we got any further. I curled up against my pillow and pondered ways to get in contact with him until finally, blissfully, I fell asleep.

Although I intended to start my search for Erik immediately, I found myself facing the last and, in my opinion, hardest semester of my college career. It was February before I even knew it and desperately I tried a fervent attempt to contact someone at Daniel's who might know the company's owner (typical, forgetful Meg had given me no help on the subject).

Getting in my car after an early day of classes, I dialed Daniel's main number from my cell phone. Meg answered and immediately whispered,

"Christine, hey, can't talk. Hottie number twenty-three is currently strutting his way over to my desk." With that the line went dead. I stared at the phone in my hand and raised an eyebrow before dialing the number again with an amused snort.

She picked up and huffed, "This better be good. You're interrupting my daily flirting routine, which happens to be very good for my social heath at the office, my dear friend."

I turned out of the parking garage and frowned.

"Since when…never mind. How did know it was me?"

"Caller ID." I could practically hear her roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Okay…um, can you transfer me to whoever runs the office?"

"Why?" Instead of getting on the freeway I turned into a fast food place and got in the drive-through line.

"Because. Do you want a taco or fish and chips for dinner?"

"Taco. Anyways, I'll transfer you to Jonathan, our office manager. And only because you're buying food, do you hear me?" She sighed dramatically into the phone, "It's a crime, I tell you! Calling your friend at work…not to talk, but to actually do business."

"Who said I was calling on business?" I quickly ordered as my turn came up and then turned my attention back to Meg, who was saying,

"He's married, Christine, that's why. And, God, what a tragedy."

I chuckled and fished some money out of my wallet. Handing it to the cashier I waited for a minute while Meg took the opportunity to make idle chatter then grabbed the proffered bags and tossed them onto the back seat. Carefully pulling out of the parking lot I prepared to cross four lanes of traffic to get to the freeway entrance.

"Meg transfer me now, okay?" I interrupted.

She begrudgingly put me through and I waited, suddenly nervous, as the connection started ringing. As I pulled onto the freeway a recording came on and I frowned at the thought of leaving a message. At the beep I awkwardly started,

"Um, I'm looking for someone named Erik…I met him at a party a while ago and…" Suddenly someone picked up and practically shouted,

"Are you Christine?"

Startled, I almost dropped the phone. "Y…yes."

"God! Why haven't you called earlier! Erik's been going nuts looking for you!"

Hurriedly pulling onto my nearby exit I bit my lip, puzzled,

"He's been…I'm sorry, I've just been…I…I'm sorry." I finished lamely.

He let out a frustrated groan and pleaded, "Please, just don't disappear again…he's been giving everyone who's in contact with him hell."

"He wants to find me that bad?" I asked stupidly.

"YES!" he erupted and then calmed down, "is there any possible way to get in contact with you…" I heard him scribble something down, "your address, or could you come in to the office, or…"

Suddenly someone cut me off and I stepped on the brakes. My phone flew out of my hand from the force of my stop and snapped shut on the floor.

I stared at it dumbly for a second before remembering that I was behind the wheel and focused on the road. Shaken, I kicked the cell phone under the seat and drove the rest of the way home.

As I parked it started to ring. I got out and fished around for it, finally snagging it and dragging it out. It stopped for a few seconds then started again. I narrowed my eyes at it.

Should I answer? Was it that guy, Jonathan? I tightened my grip on the phone and shook my head. No. I could always call back.

Turning it off I grabbed the food and went in. As I sat down in the dark kitchen and munched on my burrito I thought about what had happened.

What that guy had said raised some alarm bells in my head. He sounded desperate, almost frightened. What had Erik done to get the man in such a state?

The niggling feeling I'd had at the back of my mind since I met him pressed forward now. Who was this Erik? As much as I was attracted to him, I didn't know him and I couldn't trust him, I reminded myself.

I crumpled the food wrapper up and tossed it across the kitchen, making a perfect basket into the trashcan. Holding what was left of my burrito in my hand I got up and slowly strolled towards the living room.

Should I really try to find him? I recalled the office gossip Meg had conspiratorially confided in me. No one ever saw him. He was a reclusive genius, and from what I saw, disfigured. He was bound to have some mental scars from whatever he had to endure in his life.

But why me? Was I some easy prey for this man, this phantom? Was there some twisted reason that he was so desperately looking for me?

Plopping myself down on the couch, I looked at the foil Valentine's Day heart that Meg had propped up on the small card table we had shoved up against the opposite wall to manage her yearly barrage of cards and gifts (it was Meg we were talking about - go figure).

_Could he really just like me that much?_

I refused to use the big L word, denying the possibility. Pounding a pillow, I thought of what he could possibly see in me. Even in high school I wasn't as popular as Meg with the boys. I was always shy, preferring to throw myself into my studies instead of conquering the dating scene.

Guys were interested in me - I didn't deny it. But still, I didn't attract that much attention. I flopped onto my stomach and buried my face in the cushions.

I didn't want to get hurt. If I started something that went out of control in the next few months it could ruin my academics, my career options, and my life. I desperately wanted to get in contact with him. Jonathan had made it simple – come into the office and turn myself in.

I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over my head angrily. That sounded too much like I was going to be a sacrifice or was a fugitive or something. Should I so easily put myself on his terms? What if he was a complete psycho? I remembered what he had said in the office,

_"You're mine now and I'm not letting you go."_

That tiny voice of sanity inside my head screamed for me to drop the whole thing. I tried to reason with myself that he was just going with the moment, but he sounded serious.

_But…_

I remembered those eyes, the graceful movements that seemed to define him. I just had to see him again. Not now. Soon. I would find a way to meet him on my terms and evaluate him properly.

Putting aside my contrasting feelings, I curled up with the pillow and lay there until Meg came home.

It was some time before I was able to think on the subject again since I was practically buried in schoolwork. Unlike other universities, Oppel's spring semesters went almost to the end of May. By the time I considered giving Daniel's office manager a call I was a week away from graduation.

"Meg, I mean it. Put me through." I glared daggers at empty booth across from me at the café I was sitting in. I had just picked up the last finals results and my graduation robe and was celebrating with an iced coffee.

"I can't. I'm sorry Christine, but Jonathan flew out to London a few days ago and he'll be there for another week. His number is for emergencies only."

"Please. I really need to get in contact with him."

"Nope." I could hear her shuffle papers around irritably and then, "Listen, the flyers for the annual party just came out yesterday. It's open ticket. Whoever wants more than one can get them this year. I already asked Sabin to go, but do you want to come?"

I raised an amused eyebrow, "Artsy?"

"Yes."

"I thought that wasn't your type."

"Well, I can make an exception for this one." She cooed.

"_Really_?" I refused to rise to the bait and smiled, "Well that's great! Can you get me his number, now?"

"Sabin's?"

"No, Jonathan's."

She let out a frustrated growl. "I am telling you I CAN'T give you his number. Wait a few weeks, will you? Anyways, do you want a ticket or not?"

I thought about it for a second. This could be my chance to see him. It would be at his house again. I frowned at the thought. I would be on his turf and quite possibly be alone. Still, if we stayed in the more populated rooms, we couldn't do anything too…er…passionate.

_Why not?_

"Sure."

My blond friend squealed in delight. "_Yes_!" she whooped " I have the perfect dress for you!"

Draining the rest of my drink I rolled my eyes, "Oh God, not again. What's the theme this year?"

"COSTUME PARTY!" I held the phone away from my ear, wincing at her apparent happiness at the thought of improving (expanding drastically was the term for it, really) my wardrobe again.

After letting her gossip about her new boyfriend and reminding her about the graduation ceremony, I hung up and stared out the window, shaking the ice around in my empty cup.

_Was this a good idea?_

Graduation passed and with it so did my qualms about meeting my mystery man. I could handle it. Plus, I was drawn to him – I knew I would run into him again somewhere, so why fight it? I also decided not to call Jonathan. I really didn't want to talk to him again and hopefully I would see Erik at his mansion.

A few weeks before the party Meg presented me with a stunning ball gown. It was made with yards of mauve and purple tulle and sparkled with tiny crystals that were strategically placed to make it look like I was practically glowing. It came with a tiara and matching gloves.

The bubbly blonde sighed and stared at me proudly, "You'll look like a princess, an absolute princess."

Stubbornly, she refused payment saying she had spent a lot more on her swan costume. I didn't argue – my clothes were practically her clothes since she borrowed them so much.

The night of the actual party was complete chaos. My tiara was missing when we looked in the bag and we spent a half an hour scouring the apartment for it. Also, Meg's date from work came early and since she was ready I told them to go ahead. The directions were on the ticket and I could always use my car.

As I pulled into the driveway of the mammoth house I was decidedly nervous. Parking as close as I could, I got out and made my way to the front door where my ticket was taken and I was ushered in. Immediately, I was surrounded by a mass of people. Weaving my way through the crowd I spied Meg, clutching tightly to her date and talking to a few women I vaguely recognized from the Christmas party.

Having no desire to engage in conversation, I skirted around them and entered the main ballroom. Again, I was astounded by it's beauty. The golden colored marble glittered in the lamplight – gas lamps hooked along the wall every few feet lighted the vast hall. I looked around in confused wonder - I was almost positive that there had been electric lighting on last time I was there.

The flames gave the room a mysterious and shady atmosphere. The corners of the room were bathed in darkness and guests were draped in glowing profile. The conversation was hushed and expectant.

I stuck to the wall as I started to circle the room. There was an array of costumes – Shakespeare to Elvis – but only one caught my eye.

Robed in brilliant scarlet, the Red Death moved about the room with a catlike grace. A plumed hat topped his skull mask, casting his eyes into deep shadow and making it look as if he really was a living skeleton.

Hooked to his shoulders and slithering behind him was a river of red velvet. He used a slender staff to ward off the occasional drunk partygoer who tried to snatch up the cloak. It was as he was rapping a man on the knuckles for trying to step on it that the crowd parted and I got a glimpse of what was written on the cape in flowing golden script,

"Don't touch me! I am Red Death stalking abroad!"

Everyone was intrigued by his presence, yet there was a distinct, almost eccentric air to him that people shied away from. As he went, the crowd would give way immediately and hasten to close back up after he passed.

As he rounded a pillar light flooded over his face and I immediately recognized that penetrating gaze.

Erik.

I instinctively shrunk back against the wall, hoping that he hadn't seen me. He glided by, oblivious, and continued his circuit of the ballroom.

Shortly after, he motioned to a man standing at the top of the staircase. With a curt nod he pulled a conductor's baton out of his jacket and with a flourish started the orchestra that was hidden, I presumed, on the second floor.

The Red Death ascended the staircase halfway, turned, and rapped the marble underfoot with his staff.

"Dance!" He shouted commandingly. The crowd went silent as his proclamation echoed around the room and then almost instantaneously the floor cleared and a waltz began.

A dizzying whirl of costumes passed by me as I stood rooted to the spot. Closing my eyes for a second, I thought of what I had just seen. I was scared. He seemed like a whole different creature in that elegant yet sinister outfit. Facing him like that…

I shivered and looked up to the staircase. He was gone. Panicking, I turned and crashed my way through the onlookers. Ducking behind a pillar I threw myself at the door but was caught by a steely grip on my wrist.

Tugged backwards, I was enveloped in crimson.

"_Christine_…"

I froze and he took the opportunity to twirl me around and pin me in an embrace.

"Why do you run from me?" He brushed the edge of his mask against my hair. I buried my cheek into the fabric covering his chest and shivered. He felt it and stiffened.

"Are you afraid of me, Christine?" He shifted me so I could look up if I wanted to.

"Yes." I whispered without thinking.

He chuckled and I could feel the sound rumble through his torso. "There's nothing to fear." He gently put a finger under my chin and forced me to meet his eyes.

This close to him I could see every gruesome detail of the skull mask. I almost flinched, but he locked onto my eyes and I was pulled in by his alluring presence. He was smiling behind the macabre facade and his eyes sparkled mischievously.

Suddenly, he leaned in, lifted his mask slightly, and softly kissed the top of my head.

I pulled back, surprised, and he let me go. Tucking my arm in his he laughed joyously and led me through the crowd. We walked as though we were a king and queen, our subjects parting before us. He swirled me onto the dance floor and picked up his cape in one fluid motion.

Speechless, we flowed with the music, both frozen in the moment utterly. As we floated across the floor the other dancers stopped, one by one, and gazed at us in awe. We continued on, oblivious to our audience. By the end of the third dance I was relaxed and leaning my head in the crook of his neck drowsily.

Before I realized it, he had slowly maneuvered us over to a doorway at the end of the room and through it.

"Wha…" I lifted my head groggily and he stopped. I looked around confused. The sounds from the party were farther away then I was comfortable with.

Shooting me a simmering glance, he took my hand and led me down a brightly lit hallway. Turning a corner, I had no time to protest as he opened a door and swiftly tugged me in.

Closing it he did not lock it and he even pointed it out.

"Christine, please don't be frightened. I don't mean you any harm." He gracefully motioned to a black leather couch off to the side, "Please sit down. I'll take some of this costume off now, if you'd like."

I nodded and settled myself down. I quickly glanced around the room as he strode in front of me. There was a piano to the right of me near French doors opening onto a balcony and it looked like there were various other instruments lining the walls, some on stands and some on the shelves that were in the corners.

Facing me, he immediately whipped off the death's head and tossed it to the side. I stared at him in surprise – he still had the half mask on. He unclasped his cape and it fell heavily to the floor, pooling around him like a bright puddle of blood. Taking off his outer tunic, he was left in a white, ruffled shirt and crimson breeches.

Breathing a sigh of relief he bent down, gathered everything up, and tossed it into a corner. Sliding onto the cushions next to me, he picked up my hand and started toying with it.

"You come to me at last." He glanced at me and then turned his attention back to my hand. "Angel…" He cupped it in his and brought it to his face. Hesitantly, I followed his movements as he cuddled it against his cheek and then brought it to his lips.

Flushing, I watched as he kissed my knuckles then made his way down to my wrist and up my arm. As he got to my neck, I squeaked in protest and he smirked, flicking his gaze up to mine as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

"E…Erik…" I scooted myself away. As I did so he watched my movements carefully. "Please, can't we just _talk_?"

He made as if to lean over towards me, but I held up a hand.

"No. We have to sort this out. I hardly even know you." Mustering my courage, I stared him down "_Please_…"

He sat there for a moment and then replied,

"Agreed, we do have to figure some things out, don't we? But…" He looked at me, his eyes blazing,

"One kiss." I could feel the heat of his look on my lips. "I'm begging you."

I gulped as he crawled over to me, quick as lightning, and leaned in. Shoring myself up beforehand, I was glad that I didn't completely faint away. It was as mind blowing as last time and I almost gasped as he started exploring my neck with his kisses.

Coming to my senses as he playfully bit down on my collarbone, I managed to get out,

"Erik…_stop_."

Hearing me, he abruptly pushed himself back and settled himself on the pillows propped up against the arm of the couch. I scooted myself up, too, and paused to catch my breath before saying,

"Alright. First thing's first – I hardly even know you, Erik. Before we take this…whatever it is…any further, I'd like us to get to know each other. Also, frankly, I'm afraid of how strongly attracted we are to one another."

He opened his mouth to reply, shut it abruptly, and tilted his head to the side, pondering my statement. After a moment, his voice still a little raspy, he said,

"I can understand what you're saying, but know this – I don't intend to hurt you, Christine."

I snorted. "_Intend_ is a very loose word."

"I…" he looked down and started tracing patters in the leather with his fingers.

"Erik, I am deeply attracted to you," His head shot up. "And I would like to see you, but I just don't know…"

Looking at me hopefully, he leaned over and snatched my hands. "I am frightened by what I feel for you, too. But I have to take that chance. _We_ have to take that chance."

He started to massage my palms, making it hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

"But you always keep dashing off. What was the cause of the Christmas party disappearance, might I ask?"

"Raoul died." I tried to focus, tried to tug my hands away, but he held fast. Emotion flashed crossed his eyes at my words that disturbed me.

"_Who was Raoul_?" He asked, deadly calm.

"My older cousin." Whatever he was doing, I was getting drowsy. "He was a very dear childhood friend…"

"Oh." He tugged me onto his lap and continued his ministrations. "I am deeply sorry. You have my heartfelt sympathy."

"Thank you." I sighed and leaned back against him, almost asleep.

"Christine," he whispered, "would you like to do something for me?"

"Hmm…" I snuggled closer against him.

"Would you stay here with me?"

_What was he saying? Something about moving in._

"You can have your own room. The staff will adore you."

_WHAT!_

"Erik," I muzzily interrupted him, "didn't you hear anything that I just said?"

He chuckled again and I could feel it from my position. "Yes, my dear. But you're mine now and I'm not letting you go."

I froze. Those were the exact same words he had used in the office. I was rocketed out of the trance he was putting me in.

"No!" I jumped up abruptly and staggered away from him. I almost fell, and he dove after me. Flailing my arms around, I accidentally hit him as he caught me. We both tumbled to the floor.

I got up immediately and backed away, but he crouched there, stunned. At first I couldn't figure out why, but then I saw the mask lying haphazardly against a violin in the corner.

Horrified at what I had done, I made a noise and tried to back away, but he heard me and turned.

Slowly, his whole face came into view and my fist thought was,

_Oh my God._


	6. Love

Thank you all of my reviewers! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.

**Love**

Jolted awake by some wayward thought, she pushed away from me forcefully. Still drowsy from the effects of what I had done to her, she stumbled and lost her balance. Without a thought, I dove after her, catching her and cushioning her from the fall.

I felt the thud of her arm as it crashed into my face and then the shock of us both falling to the carpet. As I hit, I saw the mask fly from my cheek and careen across the room. I watched, frozen in terror, as it smacked against a violin across the room, too far for me to retrieve it before she could see.

In shock, I laid where I fell, making no move to stop her as she scrambled up and away. A myriad of emotions warred within me – confusion, denial, horror, and most of all, the acrid and turbulent sting of anger, ready to explode to the surface.

She gave a little cry of surprise and terror as she spotted the mask and it was enough to draw the anger out fully. Slowly, I hefted myself up and turned to face her. Clasping her hands to her mouth, she went white with horror.

Narrowing my eyes at her, I felt no pity as she backed up into a small table and stumbled over it, causing both her and the one of a kind vase that was on it to crash heavily to the floor. Covered in the roses it had held, she watched in terror as I stalked towards her on hands and knees.

Reaching her, I viciously snatched her ankle and dragged her underneath me, pinning her to the ground and giving her an excellent view of the twisted mess that was the right half of my face.

Screaming now, her widened eyes searched mine and, presumably, found something terrifying, because she turned her face away and into the carpet. Feeling nothing of the affection that had been buoying me up minutes ago, I was consumed by simmering hate and an overwhelming desire to possess her.

Grabbing her hair I twisted her face up to mine and brutally smashed our lips together. She whimpered into my mouth and I chuckled bitterly before attacking her throat with bruising kisses and nips. She clutched at my shoulders and then desperately tugged at my hair.

I hissed in pain but continued my ministrations. As I went lower, brushing the edge of her gown, she managed to get her heel into my calf and used the painful distraction to shove me off and lunge for the door.

Growling in rage, I flew across the room and slammed it closed with my palm before she could slip through. She fled to the doors leading out to the balcony and tried the handle of the nearest one but found it locked. Beyond panic, she desperately tried each one as I came closer.

Realizing that the last one was also hopeless, she turned and faced me as I put my hands on either side of her and stared her down.

She would not to look at me again and caustically I spit out,

"Really, my dear, is it _that_ bad?"

Boiling with anger as she refused to say anything, I slammed my fist through one of the panes of glass in the door next to us.

"ANSWER ME!" I all but screamed and she whimpered again, but slowly turned to face me.

"Your face…Erik…I don't care…but those _eyes_…" she rambled on breathless, terrified, "Oh, God…they burn…" Tears started to run down her cheeks and I let her slide haphazardly to the floor.

Stepping back, I felt the anger dwindle. It was swiftly replaced by confusion and unease. How could it be that she had seen my face, yet she didn't care? I looked down at the huddled, shivering woman before me.

_A lie…_

My mind whispered to me. She was distraught, trying anything to escape. I felt the dangerous, murderous feelings beginning to build again. Traitorously, my tactical mind refused to let me be.

_What did she say about my eyes? WHAT IN THE HELL…?_

I knelt in front of her and reached out a hand towards her shoulder. Curling up, she shrunk as far back as she could and bleated out,

"Please don't kill me!"

My hand froze and then limply dropped back to my side.

_Did she really think…God…_

It dawned on me suddenly how badly things had gotten out of hand. Moments before I would not have hesitated to snap the neck of her or anyone who had walked through the door, I was so enraged by what she had done.

Suddenly too horrified by my heartless actions to be anywhere near her, I scuttled back until I hit a leg of the piano then sagged to the floor. Stripped of any anger that I might have directed towards her, I was overwhelmed by a sudden surge of panic and helplessness.

_Shit…shit…shit…_

What had I done? _What had I done?_ Looking at her again, I felt like a child who had ignorantly abused his pet one too many times and guiltily watched as it quivered in terror at its master's very presence. Burying my face in my hands I berated my self,

_She's not a pet, fool! She's a living, breathing…beautiful…_

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks and I doubled over, shoving my ruined face into the carpet, not caring how much it hurt. I had treated her like an object…a goal. The very first time I saw her I refused to believe it was love. I twisted my feelings into possessed obsession, building up a relationship in my mind as the year passed.

I had almost certainly lost her as we sat on the couch and I calmed her, trying to trick her into doing my will. But now…

I felt what was left of my heart crumble to pieces as I realized that I had completely and utterly destroyed any hope of being with her. Physically, she was curled up before me, but I knew that she would see me now as a madman, nothing more.

The only option left would be total domination. I would have to break her, bend her until she snapped. But was I willing to turn such a creature into a tortured, hollow thing?

No.

I loved her. I didn't deny it now, too late to be of any good. I didn't know how it could possibly be since I barely knew the girl…love at first sight, perhaps? I snorted at the thought. How ironic…

Turning my head in her direction again, I realized that she had not moved. The poor thing had either fainted or was frozen in terror.

Oh, God. Starting to sob, I acknowledged the final, crippling blow - I would have to let her go. I _loved _her too much to turn her into something as hideous as myself.

Curling into a fetal position, I gave in to a suffocating sense of loneliness and agony. Tears ran down my face, trailing over the scars and pooling in the cavities that stretched across the right side of my face.

I remained on the floor in a daze, for minutes, hours, until I felt more than heard her start to slowly get up and move. Assuming she was going to run, I gasped in surprise and flinched away when I felt her hand slowly settle onto my shoulder.

I unbelievingly cracked open an eye. She was kneeling in front of me, her pity filled gaze directed to the floor.

Pity! That was the worst thing that she could have done to me. The look in her eyes made me want to die. Hatred, I could have dealt with, but to be pitied like a helpless invalid or an abused animal…

Making shushing noises at my weak protests, she gently rubbed my back, crying out in surprise as her fingers crossed the latticework of scars there, able to be felt only because of my position and the tightness of my back.

"Oh, Erik…" She whispered, then leaned down and wrapped me in a hug. Tenderly coaxed into relaxation, I fell asleep in her arms, emotionally exhausted.

I woke up, who knows how much later, to the feel of soft lips on my twisted flesh. I snapped awake instantly, realizing that she was pulling away and crossing the room. I remained silent as she left.

I could have chased after her, could have stopped her and brought her back to be imprisoned here with me, but I could not bring myself to get up.

As minutes passed, I mentally let her go. She was probably clear of the grounds by now, and even though I had procured her phone number _and_ address, I resolutely decided that I would leave her alone.

Shifting my position on the carpet, I caught my reflection in the glass of the door in front of me. After a sickening moment, I disgustedly closed my eyes on the image that had haunted me all through my childhood and into my adult life.

Waves of self-loathing swept through me as memories fought their way to the surface and I screamed in agony. Crazily, I raked my nails down both sides of my face, hoping that pain would block out what I knew was going to come.

_"Mama…why is your face different?" The little boy asked, curious as to why his mother's face looked so radically different than the one he had come to learn as his._

_The boy's mother set down the book that she was reading and turned her attention to the bane of her existence. Beautiful, cruel, socialite that she was, she resented the creature who had ruined her life. She no longer had any friends or companions. Her deceased husband's funds had run out long ago, spent on frivolous things like jewelry, clothes, and other trinkets._

_No lover would take up residence in her house because of the monster of a child who lived in the attic and tortured anyone who came through the threshold. In spiteful fits of rage, she would beat him with any available weapon until he dropped, but that seemed to make him more determined, more insane._

_She stared at him in simmering malice, now, and thought calculatingly of the best ways to bring pain onto the young child. Torturing him had become her one satisfaction, her one release from the life she had to burden upon herself._

_"Because you're a demon from hell, that's why. I'm too perfect for you to even understand, you idiot, so don't bother."_

_The boy cocked his head, confused at his mother's ranting._

_"I don't understand…"_

_He was cut off as she shut the book in her hands with a snap. Rising with a growl, she dragged him out of the room and up the stairs. Shoving him into his room she swiftly locked the door. Moments later she burst back in, dragging with her a humongous mirror that she'd placed in the other section of the attic for storage years ago._

_Propping it up against the nearest wall and scattering the various drawings and diagrams that had been carefully pinned to the bared planks of wood, she swirled around and shoved the cowering boy in front of her so he could not turn away._

_"Look at your face."_

_He tried desperately to avoid his mother's claw-like grasp, but in the end was overpowered._

_"I said to look, you damn monster!" She held him viciously as tears began to fall onto her fingers, which were sunk into either side of his face._

_"Momma…you're hurting me!" She ignored him and continued,_

_"I know you're scared of the dark. I've seen you hiding with_ _your flashlight some nights. Now, why would you be scared? Let's see…are you afraid that something will get you?"_

_He whimpered and she smirked triumphantly._

_"Ah, yes. Are you afraid that you will be dragged away and torn apart by an evil beast hiding somewhere? In that corner, maybe?" He cried out in terror and she cackled evilly._

_"Well, I'll have you know that they won't bother to eat you!" He sagged in relief, naively believing her. "No! They're just waiting to take you away and make you one of them! Someday…" She approached the mirror and made him look closely at his twisted little visage. He screamed in horror._

_"They will come because of this hideous face of yours! Look at it! Look!"_

I whimpered at the memory and desperately started clawing at myself. As I tore my clothes and ripped into my skin, I could still hear her laughing haughtily at my absolute misery.

Feeling blood starting to run down my skin in sluggish rivulets, I dragged myself across the room and out into the hallway. Clawing my way into my bedroom, I kicked the door shut and continued the destruction to my body that I had started in the music room.

Jacobs found me sometime later, lying almost unconscious in a pool of blood. He worriedly dialed an ambulance and I was taken to the hospital. I was promptly surrounded by doctors and nurses who immediately started to take stats, poked me with IV's, and plugged me into monitoring machines.

I was there almost a week before they declared me mentally competent and took me off most of the sedation. A councilor came in once a day and kept asking me about my life – was I prone to hurting myself, normally? Was I taking any drugs that the hospital didn't have in my file?

After three days I got sick of it and asked the visiting Jacobs to give me my cell phone.

"But, sir! You're not allowed…" He sputtered indignantly.

"Jacobs, hand me the phone _now_." I glared at him and he passed it to me hesitantly.

Armed with a way to communicate with the outside world, I dialed some people who immediately made it possible for my stay – which was shortened drastically – at the hospital to be a lot more comfortable.

Hiding the phone as a male nurse came in I dismissed Jacobs. He huffed out of the room and I turned my attention to the nurse who was putting something in my drip.

I watched him coolly as has attempted to make idle chatter.

"You know, it amazes me how far surgical technology has come. I just went to a conference here in town and we discussed the facial reconstruction done on that woman in France. Amazing! I couldn't believe how good she looked compared to some."

He checked my charts and said absentmindedly,

"Have you ever thought about surgery, sir?"

I snorted and he rambled on,

"Well, I bet that your face would look considerably better than how it is now…" He trailed of as I hissed angrily and fixed him with a heated glare. Hastily putting the chart back, he backed out of the room, muttering apologies.

Hours later, I seriously began to consider what that nurse had said. In the morning I made a few calls and pulled a few strings and had the release papers in front of me by noon. I signed them with determination, ignoring the protesting doctors who said it was unethical to operate on a man admitted less than a week and a half ago for mental and physical damage.

When they refused on the grounds that it was too soon to operate, I made even more calls – I didn't give a damn what state my body was in. Whether I made it through the operation or not didn't matter to me – it was the point of the thing, really. When most of them came crawling back, in fear of losing their jobs at this hospital or any in the area, I looked at them in triumph.

Two days later, I was placed on a gurney and wheeled to surgery. The last thing I remembered before the sedatives kicked in and I spiraled into an endless oblivion was the face of my beautiful, escaped angel, Christine.


End file.
